Shadows of the Past

by dashboardgecko

A sequel to The Lost Civilization. It's been 25 years since the Alatreon was slain. The Lost are integrating into the hunter's era, and the world is slowly advancing. But darkness looms to the east, and even greater threats than before, both monster and human, are appearing to challenge the next generation of Lost. MH4U.

34. Meanwhile 2

Meanwhile

Disclaimer: Monster Hunter is copyright Capcom. All the characters in this story are mine, unless otherwise noted.

Edited by: Hoenn Master96 and Thomas A. Hawk

---

Logan was dreaming.

Oh no, not again…

Logan tried to pull away and escape from whatever sort of vision he'd been locked into, but it was no use. Even knowing that this was a dream, his subconscious mind refused to release him. He felt as though there was a clamp around his mind, keeping him trapped here, despite his efforts. Try as he might, he couldn't get free, and eventually ceased his struggles, choosing instead to try and make himself small, in hopes that he could escape the attention of the other voice.

Thankfully, it was quieter in the dreamscape this time, though just as dark as before. His immediate surroundings were more artificial than before. The gentle ripples that created the poorly-defined shapes around him showed that there were no trees this time, but some kind of columns and walls, holding up a lopsided dome. Logan had to wait a few moments as the ripples washed over the area to get a full grasp on the shape, but wherever he was, it seemed to be an old ruin. There were also flickers of light far off in the distance, and watched as one of the smaller flames was snuffed out, the few that were near it scattering away from it.

But the real question was: where was the voice, the… thing that had clamped down on his mind a few weeks ago? The last few weeks had played hell on his psyche, and he had trouble falling asleep, fearing that his dreams would carry him here. What sleep he did get was restless, and he found himself tired most of the time, trying to avoid another meeting with this madness that came at him from the darkness of dreams. All that effort seemed for naught now that he found himself here again, pulled here without the chance to resist. Though, thankfully, the voice didn't seem to be nearby…

He felt something in the air, however, pulling gently at the back of his mind. He winced, trying to push it away, but in doing so he seemed to mentally bump something, and with a flash a wave of pressure ensnared his skull.

You!

Logan winced at the familiar, gravelly voice as it dragged through his mind, trying to pull away… however the hell he was supposed to do that. No, don't! I don't wanna-

Leave me alone!

A wave of emotion rushed through his mind, and Logan was shocked to realize that the voice was absolutely consumed with fear. Fear of… him? Why?

He yelped in surprise as the shadows around him shifted, and he found himself being 'pulled' out of the ruins and into a forest. He could hear the voice panting in fear as it tried to… flee from him, but Logan couldn't break free from it, no matter how he tried. The creature wailed, its mind trying to repel Logan just as much as Logan was trying to repel it, but neither of them could break away from the other.

What the- Let… let go of me!

Go away! Go away! Stop following me!

The forest continued to race past, dragging Logan along wildly, and he scrambled to pull himself out of the way of oncoming trees, afraid of what would happen if he hit one, even in a dream state. He gasped in horror as a shape loomed out of the darkness, a gaping mouth with dozens of long, pointed teeth, and he was being dragged straight into it. However, as he passed through the fangs the shapes became clearer for a moment, and he realized that it was the mouth of a cave, with several stalactites and stalagmites forming the terrible maw he'd imagined. The madness continued to drag him along, carrying him deeper into the earth as it begged him to go away, to leave it alone, to stop following it.

From out of the darkness, a wall rose up in front of them, and the voice shrieked as it slid to an halt, nearly crashing headlong into the stone. Dream or not, Logan felt like he needed to catch his breath as the journey finally came to an end, with his heart pounding in his chest. He could feel the voice's mind curl up, and could practically picture it coiling up against the wall, covering its head in an attempt to protect itself.

Go away… please… Don't shout! Don't squeeze my mind! Leave me alone!

What? What the hell you talking about? YOU is the one that is attacking my dreams, telling me that I gotta do what you say!

No! Liar! You screamed! You shouted! You… you squeezed my mind, told me I had to obey! Visions of fire, of cold, of pain! I won't… Don't want to…

It… that wasn't me!

LIAR! Logan winced as the voice tried to repel him, but it was weak, like a desperate shove and not a real attack.

I ain't lyin'! You was the one that said that! Said it was my 'purpose' to do what you said! Said it… I mean… I thought it was you saying that. Wasn't it?

No! It was you! Go away! I don't like this…

As the feelings of fear and confusion radiated out from the voice, Logan couldn't help but feel… pity. Madness or not, the thing just seemed so miserable, entrenched in terror at the situation. Logan had spent the last two weeks in fear, but… it hadn't been the one that had clamped down on his mind? It thought Logan had been the one to do it? But that didn't make sense!

Unless… there was a third voice? The thought didn't bear thinking about, but whatever source of madness had proclaimed that Logan needed to obey, it was a far cry from the voice he spoke to now. It could be lying… but why would it? What reason would it have to appear so pitiful? It could be an attempt to make Logan lower his guard, but why bother, considering the sheer force it had wielded against him the first time? Whatever the voice was that had told Logan to obey was clearly a threat, but this other one, if it was an 'other one'… could he reason with it?

Hoy, hoy, you… Calm down. I ain't… I ain't the one that told you to obey, hey? Thinking that mighta been something else.

Liar! Liar! It was you, I know it was!

It wasn't! Look, it got me too, so I thought YOU was the one shouting-

For a moment the voice flared in anger. Not me! Not me! I don't… I don't want that. Don't sound like that!

Well I don't sound like that either, hey! Do I?

The question brought the voice up short. Fear and confusion still lingered in the air, but traces of curiosity slipped into Logan's mind. Logan allowed himself to feel relief, and could feel it… observing him? Appraising him? He wasn't sure how to describe the feeling.

I… I guess not. The other voice sounded strange. Like echoes. Like something very big. Cold. Commanding. Familiar…

Familiar? How so?

Don't know. Almost… almost wanted to do what it said. Almost wanted to obey. But you sound… also strange, but different.

Huh? What you mean?

The way you speak is odd. Incomplete and broken. Incorrect. Very strange.

Hoy, what's that supposed to- Oh, right, the accent.

If you are not that other voice, then why are you in my head? Where did you come from? If you do not want me to obey, then why… what do you want from me?

Eh? Hoy, what you talking about? You is the one in my head, hey? Not the other way 'round.

My head!

No, is my head, hey? I is in control! Don't care how pitiful you are, I ain't gonna let some madness get the better of me after all these years, just 'cause-

You are in MY head! Logan winced at a flare of obstinate anger. My head! Not yours! Not the other's! Not anyone else's! MINE!

Hoy, hoy, calm down, calm down…

The anger flared for a moment longer before dissipating slightly, though the voice remained on edge. It thought it was in charge? Fine. Whatever. He could let it think what it wanted for now, so long as he had some time to try and understand the situation a little better. Running away from his madness or agitating it wouldn't help him at all. If he was going to deal with this dreamland specter, he needed to figure out how it worked and what set it off. For all intents and purposes, his madness hadn't had any negative effects on him, aside from giving him sleepless nights these last few weeks, but that had been due to Logan's own fears, rather than any effects from the voice itself… as far as he knew. At least it was talking to him, and not in the same way that the third one did.

So if you ain't the one that did that 'obey' thing, and I ain't… then there's another voice 'round here somewhere.

Another…? If not you, then…

Cold fear radiated out from the other voice. There was a… gurgling sound from somewhere, and the world around him was suddenly more defined, and the cavern increased in clarity. Logan was shocked at how clear his surroundings were: it was still enveloped in shadow, but there was a stark contrast to it that hadn't been there before, like walking around under the pale moonlight. He could see the shapes of the nearby rocks, a little pool of collected water, the picked-clean bones of some long-dead creature. It was all somewhat hazy and incomplete, but certainly a step above the emptiness from before. He could feel the other voice searching around, trying to find… the third one, he supposed.

Logan couldn't stop himself from looking as well. This dreamscape of his was strange, shadowed forests and ruins, deep underground caverns, but there had to be some kind of meaning behind it, right? That's what all those psychology snobs he'd met before said, 'dreams are a mirror of the subconscious mind' or some nonsense. But he couldn't even see what the other voice looked like, if it even had a coherent appearance, so he couldn't help but wonder how well 'looking around' would work in a world of nothing but shadows.

Hoy… This'd be a lot less trouble if it weren't so dark, hey?

Dark?

Ja, dark… Is pitch black in here, can't see a thing. I been called empty-headed before, but it ain't supposed to be true. Not literally, at least. Since you the one saying you in charge, can't you just… make this place nicer? I mean, we in a cave right now, but even outside you could have some grass or something. Little sun… or a moon, since it's night, hey? I even take fireflies. Or do I gotta do it? How I turn on the lights…?

What little fear and anger that still lingered in the air disappeared, only to be replaced by confusion. The voice didn't say anything, but Logan could tell that its attention was focused on him now. An awkwardly long silence followed, until Logan finally broke it.

Uh…? You still there?

Dark? See? Sun? Moon?

What?

I don't understand. What is dark? What is see? What is sun and moon?

What is…? What you mean? Bright burning ball in the sky? Cool pale rock at night?

I don't understand. This is all I know. This is all I have ever known. This is all that is, all that has ever been. What is see? What is dark? What is sun and moon? Also, what is 'pitch black'? What is fireflies? You said those before, what are they?

Logan looked around; darkness everywhere, painting a half-seen picture in his mind. No color, no light, just echoes of what lay around him. If this was all the voice 'knew', how did he explain… anything that wasn't this?

It ain't… Is like… How do I say it? It… ugh, wish I could just show you.

Logan paused at the thought. Could he show the other voice what he meant? If this was a dream, couldn't he just… conjure the images in his head, picture what he meant to show and project it into this shadow world? Lucid dream? He could feel the voice's curiosity eking through the darkness, waiting expectantly. If he could feel the other voice's emotions, surely it could feel things from him as well. Could he send feelings, thoughts… images as well?

Huh… lemme try something.

Logan focused, trying to conjure an image in his mind, but what to pick… Eventually his thoughts landed on an old memory, back when he'd been dating Mina. He remembered once he'd taken an airship to the Compound, and their vessel had landed atop the Meridian structure in the evening. It had been just the right moment that he'd been able to look west and witness a beautiful sunset. The sun was just slipping over the edge of the far mountains, and though coated in shadow there was still enough light to make out the valley below. Off in the distance he could see the torches and glowstones in Nastre being lit for the night, twinkling like little stars. Along the rest of the valley he could see small forests and trees dotting the landscape, crawling up and down the slopes of the mountains, little herds of Kelbi slipping through the gaps in the foliage. Near the town he could see a few airships taking off, and one could be seen to his left, flying over the mountains and heading east.

It was a nice image, one of his favorite memories. Could he send the image over? As best he could he tried to focus on the image, all the little details and colors, and… project them out towards the other voice, as though he was throwing the image up across a vast canvas. He bumped into something during the attempt, and the other voice grunted in surprise. Logan shoved the image at the other voice, stretching it out and expanding it, covering over the dark, rippling nothingness surrounding them and replacing it with his memory. Or at least, he hoped he was.

Erp!

There! You see it? It coming through?

It- You- I- What- Ah! Ah! No!

Uh, is you-

A terrified shrieking tore through his skull, and a surge of panic and fear raced through the air, shaking his heart. He gasped as his concentration and the image of the mountaintop view shattered, and the world was returned to the shadowy realm from before. The voice in his head was wobbling, a flickering candle about to go out.

No… No…

Hoy! Hoy, you… you okay?

Can't… Can't understand. Too much, too much.

Oh. Oh, uh, I is sorry. Didn't think it would be that big a shock, hey? Just thought you could use a little color 'round here, y'know? Guess I shoulda figured there'd be a little sensory overload, considering you only lived in darkness…

What… what was that?

Oh, uh, was a memory of mine. Was the view from a place I know back home.

...Home?

Ja, ja. I is from a long way from here… well, wherever here is. Way off west of here.

West? What is the 'off west'?

You don't know directions either? Ugh, shoulda figured. Ja, it's… hmm. If you don't know what the sun is, how can I… um. It's, uh, it's to the left of the direction it gets colder in?

Left?

Hoy, you ain't making this easy for me. Left is… do you have fingers? I think it's… Ugh. Why I even bothering explaining this to you, if you's just a voice in my head…

My head!

Ja, ja…

The voice was silent for a little while as Logan mulled over how best to explain the concept of 'left'. He realized that they'd gotten off the topic of the third voice, but… the other voice had come out of nowhere the first time it appeared, so Logan couldn't help but believe that its reappearance would be the same. This other voice was proving malleable to discussion, however, and though Logan wasn't sure what to make of it quite yet, they seemed to have a common enemy in the third voice. If he could manage to build some common ground with it, maybe they could work together if number three showed up again…

As he was lost in thought, the other voice eked back again, quiet and uncertain. Can… can you show me that again? The thing from before?

Erm… sure? You gonna be alright though? You didn't take it too well the first time, hey?

I… I want to see it again. I want to. It… I wasn't ready. I think I am now.

Well… Alright. If you don't like it, just lemme know, hey? I can, uh, can turn it off. Probably. Having the image break was… kinda jolting.

I… Yes. I will say something. I will try to stay calm.

Right. Well, let's give this another go.

Logan focused again, and pieced the image back together. This time, however, he presented the image slowly, adding to the memory piece by piece, starting with the earth and mountains before adding the sky and sun, and moving onto the trees, the lights, and all the other small details from the rest of it. The voice did little more than gasp and mutter to itself as Logan slowly put the memory together, but he could still feel the wash of fluctuating emotions as it took in the view that Logan had provided. When Logan felt that its emotions were getting too strong, he'd slow down and allow the creature to relax before continuing on in his construction of the memory.

Soon enough, however, the memory was back in all its splendor, and Logan could feel the awe and wonder seeping outwards as the voice took everything in.

Better than nothing but darkness, hey?

I don't… I don't understand. What is all this?

Hmm? Is mountains. Trees. A town I visit every now and then. The sunset.

Sun?

Uh, ja. That big, bright yellow thing.

Yellow? Bright?

Um… the thing over there. The thing going behind the mountains.

What are mountains?

They is… um, they's the big pointy things way off the in distance.

Distance? They are far?

Erm, ja. You can't tell?

I can't… I can't be sure. How do you know? Are they not just small hills? Are they not close?

Hoy. This might take a while…

---

"Hey! Hey, Mister John! We're almost at the town, mister!"

Quentin chuckled to himself at the sound of his son's exuberant announcement. He glanced back from his seat at the head of the wagon he drove to find his boy running in circles around the legs of a man who'd paid to join them on their overland journey to the north. Paid very well, for that matter; it wasn't the first time someone had bartered goods to join their caravan, but it was the first time someone had presented him with a gemstone. Quentin wasn't entirely sure what an Earth Dragonsapphire was, but it looked like it would earn him a pretty zenny once he got to a large hunting hub.

He felt a little guilty holding onto it, since John had more than earned his passage with the caravan during their time traveling together. He was stronger than he appeared and was an eager hand with manual labor. He never took up a bed or tent, preferring to sleep on the ground under the stars. He knew countless stories and tales that none in the group had ever heard before, comedies and tragedies and adventures galore, and a few scary stories that even had the adults wide awake in their beds long after night had fallen. All that, and he'd proven to be more skilled with his fists than any of the hunters their caravan had ever hired, helping to fight off a group of bandits that had attacked a few days earlier! In all honesty, Quentin felt that maybe he should be paying John, and not the other way around…

But Quentin would hold onto the stone anyway. He couldn't pass up such a profitable windfall, and besides, the gem would help balance the cost of keeping John fed; the man had an appetite that surpassed anyone Quentin had ever known.

Another glance back and he saw that his son and a few of the other children of the caravan were scaling the man like a mountain, perching up on his shoulders. The man was unperturbed by it all, not even breaking stride as five kids sat atop him and hung from his coat.

"Marty! Son, leave John alone. You're bothering him! And the rest of you too!" A chorus of disappointed groans sounded as the children dropped from the man and branched off to play elsewhere.

"That wasn't necessary," John said. "I don't mind kids."

"Yeah, well, the little scoundrels have chores to do anyway. Think you've amused them enough with your stories without having to be their climbing tree as well; you've got a knack for keeping those little hoodlums quiet, just listening to the tales you tell. Not that you didn't have a lot of the older folks just as enraptured."

"Glad to hear I've managed to entertain you all. I've always liked telling the stories I've picked up over the years. Usually my audience consists of men and women in bars though, so they tend to be slightly inebriated while I'm talking. It's nice to have a crowd that's sober… though I have to admit I'm looking forward to a drink myself once we reach town."

"In that case, the first couple rounds are on me. Storytelling aside, it was a right blessing to have you around when those bandits attacked. Knocked half of them silly by yourself and sent the rest running, swatting their blades aside with your bare hands, and not a scratch on you… it was like watching a stage show. You know your way around a fight, I'll say that much."

"Heh, truth be told, I'm actually not a fan of fighting, but I've picked up a few tricks during my life. A few lessons learned during my rambunctious younger years."

"Looked like some sorta martial arts. You train somewhere fancy?"

"Well, actually…" John grinned, lowering his voice. "I actually learned how to fight from a bunch of warrior monks that lived in a monastery on a mountaintop. Learned a fighting style called the Steel Hermitaur Claw technique."

"Warrior monks? Steel Hermitaur technique?" Quentin laughed. "Sounds like something you'd read about in a bad adventure novel!"

"Doesn't it just?" John grinned. "But you know the funny thing? It's actually true."

"You're joking."

"Not at all. I've made up a few stories these last couple weeks, but that's one actually the truth. Back when I was a young idiot… younger idiot, I found myself at a mountaintop monastery, learning how to fight from a bunch of peaceful monks. Spent several years there, actually."

"You don't say… How'd you end up there in the first place? Looking to learn how to fight?"

"Eh, not really. Like I said, I don't care for combat, but I'd heard a few of the more fantastic stories you hear about places like that: bouncing across the tops of wooden poles without losing balance, flipping through the air like you don't weigh a thing, balancing on top of a leaf in the middle of a pond without sinking… That's what I went there looking for." Quentin turned, raising an eyebrow, and John chuckled sheepishly. "Can't say I was particularly bright back then, but my head was filled with wonder at what possibilities existed out in the world."

"Sounds like you were disappointed. But you stuck around?"

"Well, it's not like I had anywhere else to go. I had no home, no family… there was only one person in the world I gave a damn about, and she was off on her own adventures. I was reckless and naive - not a great combination - and the temple Master took it upon himself to impart me with the knowledge I needed to survive in the world. He taught me how to fight too, which has turned out to be far more useful than I ever thought it would be."

"He taught you pretty well, if your skills back there were any indication."

"I suppose. He tried to teach me temperance and moderation as well, but that didn't take. I lived a humble life while I was there, but once I left it wasn't that long before I fell into a debaucherous lifestyle. Turns out I was very fond of food and liquor, the former of which was in short supply on the mountain and the latter of which was nonexistent, so I sought to make up for it by indulging in excess on both accounts. Though I admit, I've been indulging myself for more years than I spent on the mountain…"

"Explains your appetite."

"I must've eaten half the restaurants in Theron out of food during the next year, and drained half the wineries. Made myself a regular gourmand in a matter of months."

"I'll bet… though I can't help but wonder how a man who lived among monks managed to get the money to afford that kind of thing. Did you pay all those restaurants with… dragonsapphires like you did for me?"

"Among other things. Gems and plates and such will pay for quite a bit, and they're much easier to carry than a bag of zenny."

"Right… And, uh, how exactly did you manage to collect all these gems and plates and such?"

"Well now, I can't give away all my secrets, can I?"

"Just a hint?"

"I didn't kill any monsters to get them, how about that?"

"That raises quite a few concerning questions…"

"Don't worry, it's nothing illegal, and nothing glamorous, I can promise you that."

"Hmm… well, I'll leave you alone about it. I owe you that much after everything you've done for the caravan."

"Well, if I ever ride with you again, maybe I'll tell you a story about how I collect my riches. Can't promise the story will be true, but I'll make sure it's entertaining."

"Suppose that's the best I can hope for."

The caravan kept rolling until midafternoon, when they finally reached the next stop, Hua Town, a small trade hub sitting at the edge of the Dragon's Teeth Mountains. Most of the wagons remained outside the walls, but Quentin led a few into town to deliver some goods. Despite Quentin's protests, John had volunteered to help unload, but with his help they finished in good time, and before evening had fallen he found himself in the local tavern, sharing a drink with the man in an open-air veranda out back. Quentin was sitting on an old weathered bench, stained by time and spilled beer, but John remained standing, enjoying his drink as he stared off towards the mountains in the distance.

"I appreciate the help again, my friend. You ever considered working for a caravan?"

"I can't say that the traveler's life wouldn't suit me. I'm a man who enjoys moving around, and a life like yours would certainly scratch my itch of wanderlust… but I'll have to refuse. Restless wanderer though I may be, I do have other work to see to."

"Shame. We could use a fella like you traveling with us. If you change your mind, know that we've always got a place for you. So where you headed from here? How long you planning on staying in town?"

"North, actually, and I'll have to leave immediately. Can't wait to find a caravan going my way, or even wait 'til morning. I'm afraid I've dawdled too long on other tasks, and I'm in a hurry, so… um, is something the matter?"

The man must've noticed Quentin's expression change; he had a nervous look on his face as he turned to face the distant mountains. "Ah, where in the north, exactly?"

"Erm, well…" John motioned vaguely towards the northeast. "Off in that direction, about thirty or forty miles I think. I have a friend who's a bit of a recluse living out that way, and news I have to-"

"You can't go that way!" the caravaneer cut him off, making John jolt in surprise. "You'd be headed right into Lumen and Umbra's territory!"

"Lumen and… Umbra?"

"You've never heard of them? They're infamous! You can't have- Wait. Therian. Right." Quentin paused, calming himself down before speaking in a more sturdy tone. "Look, John, I don't know where exactly your friend lives, but to the north of here, there's one of those old towers, one of the tall ones made of white stone?"

"Oh… yes. I've seen it before, a long time ago. You can see it from my friend's home."

"Your friend lives within sight-? Ugh. Your friend is insane if they live that close! Do you really not know-? Look, two Raths live at the top of that tower, a mated pair! A Silver and Gold!"

"Yes, I know. I saw them flying around the last time I came through. Didn't know they had names though. Kind of gives them a local flair …"

"They have them because of how dangerous they are! They're the most ancient and infamous Raths in the country! The most ancient and infamous monsters in the country! Maybe on the continent!"

"Are they?"

"That's right. They're older than any other monster in the country, save perhaps a few of the elder dragons. They've existed for longer than this country has; there are records of them in the oldest archives of the Guild, from over fifteen hundred years ago. Raths that live for more than a century are considered some of the deadliest creatures on the planet, but two of them that are over a millennia old? Together? Getting anywhere near them is certain death!"

"Oh, it can't be that bad. I've gone into the area a few dozen times during the course of my life and never had trouble with them. They can't be so volatile that they hunt down every single person that wanders into their territory."

"Well… I mean, I suppose not," Quentin muttered. "But still, people don't go into that area if they don't have to. The wyverns are just too dangerous… and they're vengeful too! The last time the Guild sent a team of hunters in to try and kill them, the Raths flew out and razed every village within forty miles to ash! And from the stories I've heard, nobody that fought back was even able to hurt them."

"Goodness, how terrible… And when was this?"

"It… well, about sixty or seventy years ago."

"But have they caused any trouble since then?"

"Well, not really. Or at least, nothing big, not that I've heard. A few hunters that get too close get killed, but they've mostly stayed to their nest and the nearby area…"

"So perhaps they're not too dangerous as long as you don't antagonize them or get too close to their nest."

"I suppose… but it's too much of a risk. The Guild hasn't attempted another strike against them since. The villages have remained burned and abandoned, and hunters that enter the area steer clear of the tower. Nobody wants to risk that sort of wrath brought down on us again. And that's why I'm saying you can't go that way."

John sighed, shaking his head. "Well, I appreciate your concern, my friend, but… I still have to go."

"But-!"

"You said that people don't go that way unless they have to, right? Unfortunately, I have to go. There's a message I must deliver and putting that off any longer would be… unforgivable. So, Raths or no, I've afraid I'll need to head into their territory."

"But it's… At least hire a team of hunters to escort you or something."

"Heh. Well, I can't say that I can't afford it, but no. I can't have anyone else helping me with this. And besides, if it's truly as dangerous as you say, I'd hate to risk the lives of others on such a trek. A single man can travel much more stealthily than a whole team, no?"

"You… I… Alright, fine. I understand. I supposed you must have your reasons. Just promise me you'll watch out for yourself, John. I'd hate to learn you died."

"I'd hate to die as well, don't you worry. But I can take care of myself."

"Heh, that you can I suppose."

"If we meet again, maybe I'll have a story involving those two Raths to tell."

"I hope not…"

"If not, I'll just have to make one up, won't I? If you haven't forgotten about me by then, at least."

"You're a hard man to forget, I think."

"Oh, don't bother thinking too hard about me," John smiled. "I am a man of no consequence, I assure you that."

"If you say so," Quentin smirked. "Well, I hope you find your reclusive friend without much trouble. I wish you safe travels, Mister John Morlock. That's how Therians say it, right? Or is it just Mister Morlock?"

"The second one, but please, just call me John! Calling me by my surname feels too impersonal."

"Heh, I'll try to remember that. Good luck, John."

"To you as well." John raised his mug, downing the rest of his drink and gently placing it back on the table. With one last smile and nod, he turned, making his way out of the bar to find his way north.

---

"-so as you can see, our study of the geology and tectonics in the region are coming along well. There shouldn't be any worries about rockslides or collapses in your mining operations for the area… so long as you're not acting recklessly."

"I see… excellent. We've been experimenting with bombs and other explosives recently, and it's good to hear that we're not coring our way through fragile stone. The last thing we need is a cave-in or landslide; safety is paramount in this endeavor."

Kerrigan nodded, leaning back in her chair and fighting off the feeling of exhaustion that the comfort pressed in on her. Today was a scheduled day for her (or rather, for Harker, but he wasn't here at the moment) to meet with the Compound's founders and sponsors, enlightening them about the advances and current affairs of the research complex. Or, more specifically, informing them about the progress of the projects that they were personally invested in, to ensure their future patronage. Every sponsor had something that they wanted the researchers here looking into for their own personal gain, and the Compound was willing to provide, in exchange for funding. Kerrigan didn't like pandering, but unfortunately the Compound wasn't self-sustaining yet, and the Guild couldn't foot the entire bill, so they still needed to rely on money from merchants and nobles to keep the gears greased.

A glance towards a nearby clock (one that Harker wasn't allowed to touch; clocks tended to detonate in his hands for one reason or another) told Kerrigan that it was already evening, and that she'd been at this all day. Nearly twenty men and women had come by to be told that their money was going where they wanted it to, and progress was still being made, while subtly trying to press for more funding so that all the projects that the Guild and the other sponsors weren't as interested in could continue. It was a tricky dance, one that Harker was better at than Kerrigan, and the day had left her nearly burnt out.

The man before her was Emil Dantes, the head of a mining and trade group that had been in his family for generations. He was a tall, attractive man, with short, combed-back blonde hair and a thin but well-kept beard. His blue eyes were alight with professional interest and intelligence as he took in Kerrigan's report. He was dressed in a sharp grey business suit, but it wasn't as ostentatious as those others of his pedigree seemed to favor, giving the man a more approachable and friendly appearance.

Kerrigan could see the gears in his mind turning as he digested her geological research, applying the information to whatever applications he already had in mind, no doubt seeking profitable or efficient solutions to his plans. He smiled, a warm and grateful expression, one that had no doubt won him over numerous partners and friends. It was hard not to like a man of his caliber, given how friendly he was, and how generous he'd been both in and outside the public eye.

Kerrigan hated him immensely.

Despite his outward appearance and general public demeanor, Kerrigan had long since caught glimpses of some darker motives hidden just below the surface. Little questions he asked, little projects that his company took part in, people he met and associated with. Individually each decision could be written off as curiosity, business frugality, or poor judge of character, but taken together, Kerrigan's distrust of the man had only grown since he'd begun sponsoring research through the Compound, each of his subtle efforts tallying up in her mind until it had shifted into pure disgust and hate for him.

She'd confronted Harker about her concerns long ago, only to discover that her husband had pegged Emil's true nature in the same way, even if he still put on the grateful smile for every zenny he donated to the Compound. "Better to take the money of those you hate than to let it be used in manners you have no control over," he'd said. Kerrigan didn't like that line of thinking, but if it allowed her to keep an eye on him and try to uncover whatever darkness lay hidden beneath, she'd play along. Neither of them knew what his plans were, unfortunately, but they both kept a watchful eye on him, trying to discern his plans before they came to fruition, to cut them off at the head.

Still she smiled, pretended nothing was wrong as she thanked him for his generosity in supporting the Compound. He smiled back in response, and she wondered how much of it was genuine.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question?" she asked casually.

"Certainly, Professora."

"Why build a mine near Perir town? There's so little ore there, or at least nothing of great value. Your company already has a stake in some of the more profitable ores you can find in this country, so why spend money on a new mining operation in an area where the best you can hope to find is iron and machalite?"

The man grinned. "A fair question. One several of my advisors have asked of me as well. To put it simply, I'm trying to keep ahead of the curve."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, typical industries always try and use the best ores and materials for their manufacturing equipment. However, the Lost only need standard iron and steel for most applications. The close proximity to Perir will reduce transport costs as well. As such, though it may not be the most valuable ore to mine and smelt, I'm banking on the idea that Perir will continue to grow, and I'll be able to make a profit through quantity, if not quality."

"I see. That makes sense. I wish you luck in your endeavors. Our research into the geology of the region will continue if you're so inclined." More time for Kerrigan to try and figure out what his plans were… though she'd gained enough information by now that she could fathom a guess.

"Yes, please," Emil nodded. His eyes glanced down to his hands, a contemplative look. Kerrigan knew what was coming already; she'd seen the same look on other sponsors before. "There is one more thing I'd like to ask you. A new research project I'd be willing to fund, assuming the Compound is… capable."

Kerrigan made sure to look surprised. "And what's that?"

"I've been receiving some… admittedly ominous reports from some of my employees and supervisors. Rumors and hearsay making their way up the grapevine, you know how it goes. Normally, I'd keep out of such affairs, but there have been some… incidents within our offices and within our mines, and I'd like to provide some public clarity on the issue, if I could."

"What issue?" Kerrigan pressed, curious and worried. This was a new path he was taking…

"Well, I'm sure you of all people understand the… continued looming of the Lost Madness. Old news, I know, and an issue which was treated and continues to be treated poorly. However, the development of psychology and other mental health studies that the Lost have been introducing to Therian culture has certainly helped mitigate the issue, to an extent."

"...Where are you going with this?"

"Well, though the stigma around the Lost Madness is waning, finally, it seems that new ones are sprouting up to replace it. I was hoping I might be able to fund a study into the, well, I suppose you might've heard of it. They're calling it the Inheritance Madness-"

"I refuse."

"I- what?"

Kerrigan stifled a sigh, mentally berating herself as Emil stared at her in shock. That had been too waspish of her… but realizing what he'd wanted had sent a flare of anger through her. She was in control of herself now, however, and calmly stared at Emil. "I'm sorry, that wasn't the right wording. I meant to say I cannot help you in that regard."

"But… Certainly the rumors are of concern to you as well, Professora. The idea that the Lost Madness is genetic, that the children of the Lost can inherit it from their parents-"

"Mr. Dantes." Kerrigan allowed a sharp tone to slip into her voice, and the man's mouth snapped shut. "I cannot help you in that. The Compound has been built for the sake of technological and scientific advancement. I'm afraid that psychology and mental health is not within our realm of study… or at least, it isn't something that we are currently seeking funding for." Kerrigan paused, folding her hands in her lap and staring at Emil sternly. "I'm afraid, sir, that if you seek to study the 'Inheritance Madness', as you've called it, you will need to go elsewhere."

Emil stared at her for a long second, a wave of various emotions dancing across his face, before finally settling into one of resignation. "How… disappointing. Very well, I apologize if I've offended you in some way. Thank you for your geological research, and I look forward to learning what progress has been made when I next come by."

Kerrigan nodded as the man stood, marching stiffly towards the door and letting himself out. As the door clicked shut, Kerrigan felt her shoulders sag in exhaustion, sinking into the cushion of her chair as her eyes drooped wearily. The work of maintaining appearances and social niceties for the Compound's sponsors was wearing her out. For something that only required talking, she was stunned at how draining it all could be… she thought life would be more relaxed when she'd hung up her bowgun a quarter-century ago, but it seemed life enjoyed proving her wrong.

The Inheritance Madness… of course Kerrigan had heard of it. Rumors of it had been cropping up in recent years, claiming that the Lost Madness was hereditary, that the decedents of Lost showed signs of mental instability, with severe mood swings caused by unknown triggers, occasional reports of hallucinations and night terrors. Originally she believed they were just nonsense conjured by lingering anti-Lost sentiments; the Madness had been caused by the Alatreon's stasis crystals, not a genetic effect, so it shouldn't be hereditary. However, she had heard some fearful reports from certain trustworthy sources; it seemed to be rare, but still…

She'd have to look into it eventually… but not for profit. And certainly not for Emil.

The subtle creak of the doorknob as it turned made her jolt, straightening up and trying to make herself presentable as the door pushed inwards. However, rather than another investor, the head of her eldest daughter, Wilhelmina, poked in instead, and whatever attempt at professionalism she'd been trying to convey vanished as she slouched into a state of sluggishness once more.

"Hey, Mom. Long day?"

"Yes, come on in," Kerrigan groaned, pulling off her glasses and rubbing her eyes. "There's nobody else out there, is there?"

"Nope. I'll put up the 'do not disturb' sign."

"Thank you, dear…"

She could hear the door latch shut and her daughter's boots clacking against the floor as she walked behind her, making her way over to a long, decorative bar on the far side of the room. The alcohol there was meant for guests… but Kerrigan found herself finding comfort in the bottles more frequently than she liked to admit, and Mina certainly helped herself every now and then as well, as did her other children.

Kerrigan continued to rub her eyes, wondering if she should just fall asleep or not, until the touch of cold glass pressed against her cheek, and she opened one eye to find her daughter holding out a tumbler filled with liquor, which she accepted. Just a taste and she could feel the drink taking effect, filling her with rueful melancholy; she recalled when she was younger she could drink a whole bottle and barely feel it, and yet now she had to wean herself. Mina plopped down in the seat where Emil had just been sitting, taking a swig from a drink of her own as she twirled a finger through her black-tipped blonde hair.

"This is not nearly as easy as your father makes it seem. He's so much better at dealing with our sponsors than I am…"

"If only because he talks too fast for them to get a word in," Mina snickered. "And he makes people jumpy; his reputation's quite something compared to yours. People just think that since you're more approachable by comparison, you'll be easy to push around into doing what they want. Little do they know that when you give an order, everyone listens… even Dad."

"I only give orders when common sense is in low supply around here… which is more often than I'd like to admit."

"You helped Dad fill a nigh-indestructible complex with all manner of mad scientists and deranged researchers, and you expect common sense to be an abundant commodity? C'mon, Mom, you're supposed to be smart."

"Oh, shush. I'm already frustrated enough with your father. A year… a full year he's been gone at that damn Meridian tower! He was only supposed to be away for three months, but… Damn him! This is just too much…"

Mina nodded solemnly, understanding. Kerrigan had been trying to put up a strong front, but Harker's letters had stopped coming nearly a month ago, and the effect it was having on her was draining, to say the least. Even before they'd stopped coming, the sense of dread in her heart had been growing as the letters had grown sporadic, with each letter providing increasingly flimsy excuses as to why they couldn't just come home. It had been obvious that something was wrong, but for the life of her, she couldn't guess what. Each letter he sent - and they were obviously written by him; there were details to his handwriting and tone that nobody could forge - told her that he couldn't come back quite yet, not until he finished his work. Delays upon delays upon delays…

And now… now there was nothing. No flimsy assurances of his well-being, no excuses of elder dragons or new chambers to translate. She sent letters, entrusting the Felyne couriers to somehow find their intended recipient, but never came a letter in reply.

"Did you get in contact with Elhart?" Mina asked.

"I did. He said he's been corresponding with the Gahin Guild, but coordinating with them is slow. He's getting annoyed; his last letter wondered if they were intentionally delaying everything." Kerrigan stood, wandering over to the bar and refilling her glass, downing it in one go. "Hah… Poor Ellie's been just as worried as me."

"She has been coming up to visit a lot the last few months," Mina replied. "I assume she's not content to sit around and wait?"

"No, she's not. Levin may be the only one of us still hunting, but she was always the one with more fire in her. Sitting around and waiting doesn't suit her. Before, when they were still sending letters telling us they were fine, it was hard to act, but now…" Kerrigan shook her head. "She told me she's talked to her parents about leaving Van in their care, and asked the local armorer about getting her Silver armor refitted, like she's planning on marching into Gahiji to get Levin back. She hasn't been a hunter in over a decade now, and yet…"

"And you haven't been doing the same?"

"Hmph, of course not. I disassembled my armor and weapon for parts years ago. That's not to say that I haven't been looking into what we'd need to do to travel to the 'Blasted Land' and find them. We got a lucky break with Silas sending an airship to Dundorma, but without that boon this time it'll be a much longer journey… "

"You're really gonna do this? Leave the Compound without a leader?"

"That's all that's holding me back. Going to watch the hunter's exam was simple enough, but if this turns into an extended stay… I considered putting someone from the Guild in charge of operations, during my absence, but I don't want them changing things around here to suit their desires. Seward and Quincy might be up for it, but the thought of leaving them in control for a long time…"

"As impenetrable as this white stone's supposed to be, this whole place will be rubble by the time you get back."

"Exactly. I considered asking you or Jonfor a while, but-"

"Don't bother."

"That's what I figured. Lucy and Senya are too young, and not fit for leadership roles anyway, Bram is out of town… I might need to call in Arthur and have him take the reins."

"You'd be hard pressed to get him here. He's up north helping Silas with some secret project."

"I'll get his wife to help. Sheila's expecting a child anyway, he can consider it maternity leave." Kerrigan sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing the brim of her nose. "I'll miss the birth of my first grandchild if I do this… But if Ellie goes, I'm going to go with her. I want those two idiots back as much as she does. I'll figure something out. I just wish I knew why the Gahin Guild is being so sluggish with helping us…"

"I'm sure they're busy enough as it is, considering their recent struggles. And missing persons are probably tricky, considering the stories I've heard about the Everwood."

"I suppose…" Kerrigan sighed, finishing off the next glass.

A knock at the door behind them drew their attention away from their drinks, and Kerrigan winced as the door was pushed open from the other side, not even waiting for an invite. However, stepping into the room was a woman with long, braided black hair, streaked with lines of grey, and exhausted-looking blue eyes. She wore long-sleeved clothing, a set of thick clothes with a dirty old smithing apron and work gloves, as well as a thick pair of boots. A small wooden box hung under her arm, but she pulled it out upon catching sight of the two other women.

"Oh, found ya," she muttered, her voice low and rough. "Got all those fancy bits and pieces you wanted made done, Mina."

"Aha! Great!" the young woman grinned eagerly, darting across the room and nicking the box from the other woman's grasp. "Let's see here, got the relief valve, the arrester, the wiring… and this will carry the current I want it to?"

"You tell me," the woman shrugged. "You're the one that does the calcs, I just mold it like you tell me to."

"Right, right… Well, looks like it's all in place. Ahhh, I can finally finish my project with these! Thanks, Jez."

"No problem," the woman replied, before looking over towards Kerrigan. "Ah. Drinking at this time of day? Talking to sponsors, I assume?"

"That's right," Kerrigan sighed, "among other stresses that require relief… like husbands. Care to join us?"

"Hm. Wouldn't say no to a drink. Though I'll keep it to one, thanks." Kerrigan poured Jez a drink as she refilled her own glass, which the black-haired woman sipped gingerly.

Jez was one of the Compound's many smiths, called in to work on the specialized equipment and materials that the researchers required for their finer experiments, wires and filaments and metal materials molded into precise shapes and sizes. Jez and her husband, Ahab, did them all. Ahab was actually the more experienced of them, but both of them were called upon equally thanks to all the work going on in the Compound. Jez typically handled the deliveries, so she was better-known among the populace. She also handled… other tasks as well, certain work that was conducted in secret corners and back alleys, but Kerrigan pointedly ignored those for personal reasons.

"You're still helping Jonathan with his work?" Kerrigan asked her daughter, eager to turn her thoughts to less stressful topics.

"Nah, I'm taking a break from that. Jon had some 'breakthrough' and chased me out of his lab to finish it himself; he's always really intense when he's on the final stretch. He'll probably come and show you when he's done with it, and send Bram the prototype for field testing." Mina teetered a little as the liquor started to take hold, but simply poured herself another glass. "Right now I'm tinkering with my generator, but there's just too many atmospheric issues, and I just can't keep it controlled, so I've moved on to working on the Dragon's Breath and skimming through Dad's notes looking for inspiration… really loving all the ones he wrote about the Luminary."

Kerrigan groaned in frustration. "Please tell me you don't actually believe that tripe about the 'Luminary', Mina… I can't deal with two of you going on about that."

"Ha, of course not," her daughter grinned. "Still, I'm surprised Dad actually buys into it. As weird as he is, I always figured he was above crazy conspiracy theories."

"What's the… Luminary?" Jez asked between sips.

"According to Dad's research, it's apparently some secret position in the Guild, given to a single, trustworthy person," Mina smirked. "That person is granted ultimate access to all data and research information in the Guild's archives. And I mean everything, even the red-level, extremely classified stuff that only the High Guildmaster can see! It's the ultimate authorization for all the hidden secrets, the clandestine missions, the lies and cover-ups… everything!"

"Alright… to what end? Why give this kind of power and access to someone besides the Guildmaster?"

"Apparently, the Luminary is supposed to use all that knowledge to try and uncover secrets or find connections between everything they have access to. To connect any dots. To take a report from Orage, another from Yukumo, find the similarities and uncover a criminal organization that would've gone unnoticed if the subtle hints went unseen by everyone else. To unravel impending disasters that might devour the country if the warnings weren't pieced together in advance. Or to take the research from one organization, combine the data with the study from another, and piece everything together to determine what could be possible by taking everything into account. The Luminary is a spider, sitting in the center of a great web, feeling every vibration."

"That…" Jez blinked, taking a seat and furrowing her brow. "That seems like a lot of work for just one person. Is it even possible for a single person to be able to make sense of everything that the Guild knows?"

"Well, they're not alone. Or at least Dad doesn't think so. He thinks that directly below the Luminary are a group of people called the Tributaries, who don't have as much authorization as the Luminary, but help organize and compile data. Dad thinks there are four of them out there, secretly scouring their way through the Guild's archives and secrets, trying to unravel all the mysteries of Theron. He's got this list of names of people he thinks might hold the position."

"And Harker is… trying to figure out who this Luminary is? Is he against the idea?"

"Oh, please. He's probably just offended that the Guild didn't give the title to him. I can imagine him drooling over the idea of having unrestricted access to all the Guild's secret files."

"You're forgetting to take one thing into account with all this," Kerrigan said flatly, and the two other women looked at her. "The Luminary doesn't exist. Harker is chasing a specter, looking for someone that he thinks will get him access to all the information that the Guild doesn't want to give him."

"You think so?" Jez asked. "I don't know Harker as well as you, but I can't remember a time he's been completely wrong about something. He's almost always at least on the right track."

"Please. If the Luminary did exist, do you think the Guild would be stupid enough to let him even learn it existed in the first place if they could avoid it? If you know anything about Harker at all, what do you think the prospect of unlimited knowledge sounds like to him?" Kerrigan sighed and shook her head. "My guess is that Harker was poking his nose somewhere it didn't belong, so someone in the Guild - probably Elhart - made up the story of the Luminary to distract him and send him on a wild goose chase."

"Maybe, but he's been digging into this Luminary hunt of his for years now. Wouldn't he have given up by now if it wasn't real?" Mina asked.

"Who knows? I've been married to your father for a quarter century and I still can't understand why he does some of the things he does." Kerrigan swirled the liquor in her glass for a moment or two, before finishing off the glass, turning it over, and setting it down onto the bar. "Hah, a little libation feels good after dealing with so many sponsors. Hopefully no more show up…"

Next to her, Jez swirled the barely-touched drink in her hand. "Oh, that reminds me, you have another sponsor that came to visit. I met her on my way here."

Kerrigan groaned in dismay. "Not another one… Who is it this time?"

"She didn't give me her name, just said she wanted to talk to you and then wandered off towards your lab."

"She- My lab?!" Kerrigan yelped, leaping to her feet. "Why didn't you stop her?!"

Jaz shrugged. "I thought you were there. I was looking for Mina."

"Oh, damn it all," Kerrigan growled, rushing out of the room. Her lab was only half a floor down from their 'business room', and thankfully anyone that saw her coming was smart enough to move out of the way. Turning into the long hallway leading towards her lab, she could already see the door cracked open and light flooding out into the darker hallway. Rushing over, she burst through the door, frantically looking around and spotting the trespasser.

She was a Wyverian, clearly, with long pointed ears that hung low, and bare wyvern-like feet with black talons. Her skin was pale and smooth, and she had an unkempt smock of pale red hair atop her head, tied back into a thin ponytail at the back of her skull. Her clothes were vibrant and colorful, a Yukumo-style outfit made from a green and purple jinbei, with a dark blue obi wrapped around her waist, a long lime-green tabard covering her chest and hanging down below her knees, and a pair of thick forest-green leggings. Over all of that was a white dress coat, with long-hanging sleeves that seemed to be trying to emulate a lab coat, but more decorative in nature.

At the sound of the door opening, she'd jumped a little and turned. Upon realizing it was Kerrigan, however, her lips split open into a wide Cheshire-cat smile, revealing a set of particularly pointed teeth, and her dark blue eyes glittered in eager delight.

"Aha! You must be Kerrigan Renfield! Wonderful, I finally get to meet you!" The woman practically skipped over to her, grabbing her hand and shaking it eagerly; Kerrigan was surprised to find that the other woman had a shockingly strong grip, leaving a fading red mark on the hand once she was released. She also realized that her slurred accent meant the woman was likely from Gahiji; Kerrigan didn't realize the Compound had any Gahin benefactors.

"It… is nice to meet you too? I'm sorry, but this is my lab… ma'am, and I don't allow anyone into my lab without being present. And you shouldn't be walking into any lab without supervision anyway, especially around here; many of them have sensitive or volatile materials!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! I simply couldn't resist, you see. I have been following your work for years now, but never had a chance to visit, so when I saw your lab I guess I just… let myself in." The woman chuckled sheepishly. "Probably not my wisest moment, but my curiosity tends to get the better of me every now and then. I didn't touch anything though! Promise! I know better than that! I simply looked!"

"Thank goodness for small favors…" Kerrigan sighed, before straightening up to make herself more presentable. "Now, if you'd please- Wait. You've been following… my work?"

"Yes, of course! Fascinating stuff!"

"It… really? But I study ecology and geology. Not more… exciting things."

"Maybe not, but it's all so intriguing, nonetheless. All the books and theses you've introduced about ecological data and monster habits are absolutely enthralling to me! The way you make the world sound so complex and multi-faceted, how every living being is just a small piece in a planet-sized machine, constantly whirring and adjusting and breaking and fixing itself… It's all so amazingly wonderful!"

"I… Well, thank you," Kerrigan stammered. It was so rare for her to get this kind of praise. Her work was certainly not as flashy or public as other experiments that the Compound produced, so she rarely found herself in the spotlight. Not that she sought recognition, but… it was rare to receive, and it felt surprisingly nice. "That's kind of you to say, miss… uh…"

"Oh, how rude of me!" the woman gasped. "I haven't even introduced myself yet! My name is… well, I suppose I've remained anonymous in my donations, so I guess you'd know me by my initials: C.M."

"C.M.? That's-"

Kerrigan paled. 'C.M.' was a regular sponsor to the compound, and provided funding of money and materials in such quantities that they were only surpassed by the Guild itself… and not by much at that. This Wvyerian, if she was who she said she was, had consistently bankrolled a fifth of the Compound's funds for over twenty years! And specifically she's been personally providing Kerrigan herself with all the funding she'd been using for all of her personal research.

"I- It's a pleasure to meet you!" she gasped, fumbling over her words. The Wyverian woman seemed pleased. "You- your donations have been invaluable to, to the Compound as a whole and… and my personal research specifically!"

"Really? Oh, that's a relief. I was never sure if what I was sending was enough, but it was all I could get hold of to send."

"No no, you've been more than generous. Not too many people think ecological studies were as worthy of receiving funding as some of the other, flashier experiments."

"I can't imagine why. Ecology is important!"

"I know! Your donations are much appreciated, even more so because you haven't asked for anything in return-"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

Kerrigan winced, clamping her mouth shut; she hadn't meant to let that slip. "It… many of the most generous donators like to make… 'requests' of our researchers, about projects or studies that interest them."

The woman gasped. "I can do that?!"

Kerrigan stifled a groan. Considering the magnitude of C.M.'s donations, Kerrigan would be hard-pressed to deny her anything without risking insult. "It… it's possible, depending on what you wanted…"

"Really?! Let me think of something!"

"That's not… necessary…" Kerrigan said, but the Wyverian had already taken on an expression of deep thought, trying to conjure something she wanted studied. Kerrigan wondered if this reaction was genuine, or if this had all been an act to get what she wanted. Had C.M. come here with something in mind…? Or was Kerrigan just too jaded from her years helping maintain the Compound to be anything but cynical?

"Oh! Oh, I know!" The Wyverian said eagerly, and Kerrigan braced herself, expecting the worst. "Jhen Mohrans!"

"Jhen… excuse me?"

"Jhen Mohrans! I'd like you to do an ecological study on Jhens, if you could!" The Wvyerian grinned gleefully. "I remember reading your study on Lagiacrus and their intrinsic role on the environment, and how their dermal spines store a lot of latent energy, and how their migration patterns are directly correlated with the weather, and that amazing missive your wrote on the Galva Isle's massive shift from a moderate climate to a nearly eternal thunderstorm after the Lagis turned it into a mating ground - I've been meaning to try and visit that place sometime."

"You really don't want to, trust me," Kerrigan muttered.

"That's alright, I have a friend that lives around there."

"Who-?"

"Oh, anyway, I loved the detail you went into in that study, so maybe when you have time, you could do a similar study on Jhens! I mean, as great of an impact your research has shown that Lagiacrus have on the environment, I'd love to see what sort of theories you unravel on a creature that kicks up sandstorms in their wake! And maybe… maybe you could even try and find one of those Hallowed Jhens I've heard about…"

"That… hrm. Well, I'd like to do that, but… Jhen Mohran aren't nearly as easy to observe in the wild as Lagiacrus are, given that they stay below the surface of the sandsea for most of their lives, not to mention their constant migrant nature and the sandstorms that follow in their wake. And there aren't as many of them either. Planning a study like that would take… a long time, and I'm very busy these days-"

"Oh, take your time. I honestly didn't expect you to offer something like that in the first place, so I won't be too chuffed if you can't get around to it. I'd love it if you did, but even if you can't do it for a while-" She reached up and flicked a finger against one of her pointed ears. "-I can wait a while. Despite my demeanor, I'm older than I look, and I'll be alive for… well, longer than you. A few years won't bother me too much if it takes that long for you to get to it."

"Well, I… I appreciate the patience. And-! And of course I appreciate your continued efforts to support the Compound's research efforts, and my own personal studies, Miss, uh… Miss C.M.? I apologize, I'm not sure how to refer to you, so if I sound a little awkward-"

"Oh, don't worry about it! I like keeping my anonymity where I can, but you can call me what you want." The woman paused, tapping a finger against her chin. "I guess I should introduce myself properly though, for convenience's sake. My name's Charlotte. Charlotte Morlock."

The woman grinned broadly, and for a moment she seemed rather embarrassed just by saying the name, giggling to herself gleefully over some unspoken joke. Kerrigan was searching her memory, trying to recall any wealthy merchant lords or nobility with the same name that she could associate with the woman, but nothing came to mind. A fake name, perhaps? And if not, where did Charlotte get her money from? The fortune she'd poured into the Compound had to come from somewhere… She'd have to look into that later.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Miss-"

"Missus."

"Ah, Missus Morlock. Now… since you've been so generous, I suppose I can give you a tour of my lab and show you what I'm working on now, as long as you promise not to touch anything."

"Oh! Really? That would be amazing! Don't worry, I'll keep my hands to myself!"

"Yes, please do…" Kerry smiled at Charlotte's exuberance as she led the Wyverian over to a shelf filled with a pile of roots and soil samples, a part of her recent study into the ecology of Duramboros. It wasn't the most exciting study, but the woman's eyes still lit up eagerly. It brought some comfort to her, despite the stresses of the last few months.

She decided that she would make this her last discussion with the donors for now; she wanted to step aside on a high note. Tomorrow she'd determine who to put in charge so she could prepare for her journey into Gahiji with Ellie… barring any emergencies that cropped up.

---

"Gah! Son of a bitch, that hurt… Let me- let me go, you piece of-!"

The man's words were silenced as a spiked gauntlet smashed into the tree he was standing against, splintering the wood. A curled black horn stuck out from the side, and pressed tight against the man's throat, gasping for air. With a sharp motion he was yanked into the air, dangling from the twisting horn and struggling to wrap his fingers around the edges to recover his breath.

Zame ka'Honohaato tilted his head, watching as the bandit struggled to break free. The curled horns branching out from the sides of his Rajang gauntlets (though the smith he favored said they were technically 'dual blades') were rarely useful against monsters… but they did have their occasional uses. Like pinning bandits to walls by their throats. The intimidation factor was quite useful. The man before him still had some semblance of resistance, however, trying to kick Zame with his dangling feet. A careful punch to the gut with his other fist silenced the man, the spikes on the gauntlet piercing just enough through the man's leather armor to show him that he was in no position to fight back.

"I'll ask you only once to stop your struggling. I've already dealt with your friends, and you're the last one standing." He motioned behind him, where two dozen other thugs and bandits law sprawled across the dirt, most unconscious while the rest were too wounded to stand. The man before him seemed to lose his steam as he stared across his fallen comrades. "Now we can do this the easy way, or the painful way. I don't like the latter, but unfortunately I'm in no position to dawdle. So. Are you going to talk, or am I going to make you talk?"

"I- Please!" he gasped, struggling to breathe. "I swear, I'll talk, I'll tell you whatever you want to know! Please!"

Nodding, Zame lowered the man a little, just enough that his toes could touch the ground, allowing him to breathe without trouble but keeping him teetering on the balls on his feet. As soon as he'd caught his breath, Zame saw his eyes dart around, searching for some way to get out of his situation, but the hunter pressed the hooked horn a little more into his throat.

"Now, now, keep your attention on me, please…" he said sternly, and the man's eyes darted up to meet his. "How long have you and your friends here been criminals? Would you say you're in the know when it comes to local criminal activities?"

"I… aye? Yeah, sure. Uh. We've been, uh, in the area for about a decade. Know… a lot of what's happening in the area."

"Right… then again, you don't seem to be the most reliable or intelligent of criminals… but I suppose you're the best I can do for now."

"Hey, what's that supposed to-"

"Listen up. Do you know any rumors of a black-tinted haze in the area?"

"Eh? Black… haze?"

"Some sort of black-colored poison or toxin of some kind. Someone been using new methods to kill people?"

"The- Poison? The hell you want poison for- gah!"

"I don't want poison, I want to find the source of the poison. Has anyone in the area been dealing in a black-colored poison gas or anything like that?"

"I don't- don't know! I mean… no. No! We don't deal in poisons! Hell, nobody deals in poison, or they step on Cobra's toes!"

Zame tilted his head at the name, his eyes narrowing on the man's face. "Cobra?"

"It- yeah, some hotshot assassin. Deals in poison-tipped-arrows and shit like that-"

"I know who she is. I was hunting her down before my current mission waylaid me. But she sells her poison, too?"

"Yeah, she's the- Wait. She? Cobra's a girl? Holy hell, I always figured her for a dude… Can't believe-"

"Focus, please," Zame growled, pressing a little harder against the man's neck.

"Oh, jeez! Okay, okay! Yeah, she sells that shit too! Nasty stuff, not that weak crap hunters put on their arrow coatings or nothing like that, but the real stuff, y'know? I mean, I guess you do know, since you've heard of her. She's like, cornered the market on all the worst poisons. By force, y'know?

"Me and the guys here… the ones you just kicked the shit out of? We tried selling some nasty toxins couple years back, this foreign stuff that'll kill you real quick. Cobra, he - uh, she didn't take to well to someone stepping into her market. Few weeks after we started selling, Fanny, Guy, and Marv got stuck with arrows that flew outta nowhere. Never saw where they came from. They survived and… well, they didn't really survive, y'know. Lived long enough for the poison on those arrows to kick in, then spent the next week in the worst sorta pain imaginable… We did right by them and put 'em outta their misery. Shoulda done it sooner… Anyway, we got the message and stopped selling, and I guess Cobra decided we weren't worth killing. Weren't worth wasting more valuable poison on, more like, though she coulda just shot us through the neck, if the rumors 'bout her aim are true… But she's the type that likes her victims to suffer. She's a real sick bitch like that, y'know?"

"I do know," Zame grumbled. He mulled over the man's words for a few moments as the thug fidgeted nervously. "And she… corners the market?"

"Yeah. Yeah she does. Least, she's got a vise grip on all the nastiest stuff. I don't know anything 'bout this black poison you're talking 'bout, but if it's anything dangerous, if it's anything nasty, there's no way Cobra doesn't know 'bout it. And if she somehow hasn't heard of it… she'll make sure she's got the biggest slice of the pie, I guarantee you that."

"I see… I don't suppose you and your friends here were big time enough to know how to get in contact with her?"

"Oh, not a chance, pal. She didn't even wanna waste poison killing all of us when we ticked her off. We ain't nearly big enough to catch her attention."

"Hmph. Disappointing. And you don't know anything about this black poison?"

"We haven't touched poison since Cobra told us not to. But if anyone knows about a rare poison, it'd be her. Why? Uh, what's this new stuff do, anyway?"

"None of your concern."

Zame was worried, however. The researchers that the younger hunters were traveling with seemed certain that the black poison was being produced by a monster of some kind. However, it this 'Frenzy' venom could be collected somehow… if it could be applied as a coating to Cobra's weapons, or sold to the highest bidder… The thought terrified Zame to no end. And if Cobra was as connected as he feared, he had no doubt she would hear of the Frenzy eventually, and would want to gather samples for her own personal use-

"So, uh, don't suppose you're the type of guy that lets me go and tells me to 'warn all my friends that you're coming for us' or anything like that?"

"Ha. Not at all. You'll be going to prison, and any of your friends I find will meet you there."

"Yeah, I was afraid of that…"

---

In a long and opulent hallway stood two guards on either side of an immaculately carved, gold-trimmed door. The younger of the guards kept leaning to the left and right uncomfortably, but the older guard only chuckled to herself.

"Never guarded a Felyne before, Ben?"

"No… well, yes, but not one that was so wealthy. I didn't even know there were any Felynes that were this rich," he muttered, looking around. The extravagance was staggering. "I mean, there's no reason for there not to be, but… All this belongs to him?"

"That's right," the older guard, Kara, replied. "Boss Gaul's the wealthiest, most influential Felyne in Dundorma. He started mass-producing gunlance ammunition and switch axe phials in Gahiji before the number of Progressives boomed, so he made a fortune off of that when they got popular. "

"Wow… I guess it's just surprising," Ben admitted. "Usually when I see Felynes in the upper echelons, they're still just assistants to humans or Wyverians. I've never seen one that's in complete control of such a large company. And now there's what… twenty of them in one room?"

"Yeah, I guess it's not too common," Kara admitted, tapping the frame of the door. Boss Gaul was hosting a collection of other affluent Felynes tonight. Nineteen of the wealthiest Felynes in the country had come, but that was to be expected; Gaul's parties were an exuberant affair, and few would pass up the chance to attend. "Mostly humans and Wyverians pumping blue blood through their veins. But I suppose it's about as likely for Felynes to make it big as any other species. Guess these ones just got lucky."

"Wish I coulda gotten some of that kinda luck…"

"Heh, don't we all. But this kinda work ain't too bad either, huh? Stand in one place for a few hours and walk home with a two month's rent in your pocket."

"And all you gotta do is try and break up fights and stop anyone that comes at Gaul with a knife?" Ben asked flatly.

"Well, no job's perfect. If you do your job well, even something like that won't be a problem. You saying you wanna quit or something?"

"No, nothing like that. Pay's too good. Speaking of which, shouldn't one of us, y'know, be in there?"

"Normally, yes… but Gaul told me he didn't want anyone in there for this talk. I think this party's more of a meeting. A lot of the Felynes in there are Progressives too, and if you ask me, this whole night's meant to be a planning session for how to improve the public perception. Company secrets or something, you know how it is. Way above our pay grade. I've got orders to peek inside every ten minutes or so, make sure nothing's gone afoul."

"Right, I know. It's just… I can't help but feel a little worried. I mean, considering how people feel about Progressive stuff these days…"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Kara sighed, shaking her head. "The boss hasn't had the same spring to his step since the explosion. Looks worried all the time… I mean, yeah the explosion was terrible, but it was just an accident."

"I heard the Troverians are claiming it was sabotage," Ben noted, though he didn't sound convinced.

"They would say that. Daedelus is one of their greatest inventors; they wouldn't want to admit he'd screwed up so catastrophically. It's not Harth's official stance though, and it's not like they have any real proof. Not like the Purists are doing much to assuage those rumors; for all their talk of being higher-minded and rational, there've been a lot of them attacking Progressives just for having tech weapons."

"That's what I'm worried about. Gaul's made a big profit off of Progressive weapons, right? And so have a lot of the other Felynes in there. He'd be a pretty big target for that uh… aggression."

"Ah. Yeah, you're right. I guess I can look in now. Gaul might not like it, but if it's for the sake of his safety, he'll just have to… have to…"

"Have to what?" Ben asked. A lack of response made him turn, finding Kara looking down at the floor. Ben followed her gaze.

A crimson puddle was leaking out from under the door. Blood.

Kara spun, yanking the door so hard that the heavy wood was nearly ripped off its hinges. She took one step into the room, but froze immediately, with Ben nearly running into her.

They were all dead, every last one of them. All nineteen guests had been brutally murdered, scattered around the room in pools of their own blood. Some had their throats slit, others had their stomachs sliced open. One had fallen into the grand fireplace in the back of the room and was filling the air with the smell of burnt fur and flesh. Near the door was the source of the blood which had leaked through the cracks, two Felynes that had apparently tried to escape. Both had long stiletto daggers, made of a strange bluish-silver metal, punching through the backs of their necks and out their jugulars. Several more similar blades were scattered around the room, most of them embedded in the bodies of the deceased or laying on the ground nearby.

In the center of the room was their employer, Gaul. All four of his paws had been staked to the floor with the thin-bladed daggers, his mouth was stuffed with Felvine, and his eyes were wide and horrified. A long metallic rod made of the same metal as the blades had been punched straight through his chest, the tip embedded in the floor underneath him. The rod was mostly undecorated, save for the end, where an elaborate finial had been wrought: it was an eight-point star, and at the center was a large symbol shaped like a castle tower, with bird's wings sprouting from the foundation and rays of light expanding out from the pinnacle. A stretch of white cloth was attached as well, hanging down from the pommel, a single word written across it in blood: Progressive.

Kara took this all in, disbelief blotting out any revulsion and horror she might have felt. Ben had so such retention, however, and she was pulled from her shock by the sound of the younger guard vomiting on the floor behind her.

"How d- How did this happen! I never heard a thing!" she gasped. Ben made no effort to provide a response, still emptying his stomach out in the hallway, but Kara smacked her head in dismay. Of course she hadn't heard: the room was mostly soundproof. Gaul had made sure of it after one of his more boisterous parties had once kept his wife from a good night's sleep, and she'd ripped into him about it the next morning. Not that it would be an issue ever again… Gaul's wife lay sprawled out across one of the couches in the room, a dagger through her forehead.

"Town… the town guard…" she muttered as protocol slipped back into Kara's head. She whirled, staring at Ben, who seemed to be recovering from his revulsion. "Go get the town guard! Now! Quickly!"

The young man stared incomprehensibly at her for a moment longer before his own mind kicked back into gear, and he spun and sprinted down the hall, leaving his mess behind. A few people poked their heads out of nearby rooms, servants and chefs that had heard him run past, and already a clamor among them was rising.

Kara watched him go and turned back towards the room to investigate, but her vision swam as revulsion and shock finally got the better of her, and she dropped to the ground, pressing her back against the doorframe as she gasped for air. Some of the other servants and hired guards had appeared now, looking into the room. Some of them screamed in horror. Most were pale as other, more controlled individuals told the others to stand back.

"How did this happen?" she moaned to herself. "How did this happen?"

---

"Oh, man, that went so badly…"

"Haha, that was amazing! I've never seen anyone so bad at flirting as you."

Lydia smirked as her brother, Edward, turned his head and scowled at her from under his cap as the two of them rushed out of the restaurant they'd been eating at. A string of furious cursing and shouting from within the building made him wince, and he pulled the brim down further, trying to hide his face as the owner of the building stepped out, hands on his hips and eyes glaring into their backs as they marched away. The two of them hurried down the road until they turned around the next corner and out of sight.

"Oh man! That was hilarious!" Lydia cackled, pausing to adjust her guard armor, and the action made Edward instinctively reach for the gloves of his own matching set, tugging at the fringes idly before shifting his left hand down to rest on the pommel of his sword.

"I thought you were supposed to be a good wingman."

"I am! I'm the best you'll find in this town!" Lydia replied proudly, before turning and giving him a pitying look. "But I'm not a miracle worker, Bro. I'll hype you up as much as I can, but I can't gloss over everything. If you'd only spilled your drink on him, you could've recovered… but you set his hair on fire, nearly cut him with your sword -"

"I get nervous…" Edward muttered under her breath.

"Ha! Nervous I can work with. Nervous can be played off as shy, and shy can be sold as something endearing. Nervous could've gotten you a boyfriend years ago. But you! You are on beyond nervous. You are, ah, you are cursed, Bro. I don't know what god or spirit you've ticked off, but I'd find a way to apologize, or resign yourself to being single forever." Lydia tilted her head in thought. "Or you could try and date a hunter. Just make sure he comes on your dates in full armor. And maybe pretend to be mute until you get comfortable around him."

"Oh, is that all I need to do?" Edward groaned.

"Sure! Just think, if you ever manage to get married, you can look back on all this trouble and laugh. I know I'll be laughing, that's for sure."

"Asshole," Edward groaned.

"The term you're looking for is 'big sister'... but I suppose they're synonymous."

"Aw man. I'm going to be hearing about this from the other guards for months…"

"Yeah, you are."

Night had long since fallen over the town of Lyalli, and all the shops were closed, save for a few of the bars and restaurants, which burned the midnight oil. Even in the moon-lit darkness and even without watching where they were going the two of them had already stepped into their routine patrol around the town, making sure the town was quiet. They'd followed the same path nearly every day for the last few years, looping over to southern side of town where the mercantile district sat, now dark and empty, and had long since memorized every small detail on the route, keeping an eye out for unusual activities or discrepancies. Lydia contented herself with mocking her younger brother, but her eyes bounced between corners and dark alleyways, checking and double-checking for anything out of the ordinary, just as Edward did for the other side of the road.

"So… did anyone ever figure out what all those Guild snobs from last month were all about?" Edward eventually asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Not that I've heard," Lydia shrugged, deciding to show him mercy. "Bean over at the Guild booth knows, but he says it's classified. Gets real jumpy when people prod him about it to, so it must be something nasty."

"Laura thinks it's something to do with an elder dragon," Edward mused. "Something to do with all those rumors about a, what was it, black poison mist in the woods. She thinks it's some kind of Chameleos subspecies."

"Elder dragons don't have subspecies."

"Sure they do! There's that, uh, that icy Kirin the folks up north found. There's, uh, there's a couple over in Theron, the water and sand whales, whatever they're called. Morons."

"Mohrans. You're the moron."

"Yeah, yeah. There's the Kushala too. The rusted one."

"That's not a real subspecies though, that's just a regular Kushala that hasn't shed its skin in a while. Like someone who wears the same pair of socks for too long."

"Even so, even so. Anyway, Laura says she thinks that black mist came from a Chameleos subspecies, which is why nobody ever saw what was spreading it. 'Cause it was invisible-"

"I got that. I know how Chameleos work as well as you do, you don't need to spell it out for me. You really think Laura's right though? Chameleos subspecies spitting black poison?"

"Laura's usually right about these things. What else could spread all this poison or whatever it is so effectively without anyone seeing it?"

"I don't know," Lydia shrugged, shaking her head. "I'll leave that kind of thinking to the Guild. As long as they keep that black poison outside the village walls, they can-"

The woman froze as the sound of shattering glass echoed down the street, and immediately both guards were on edge, ears and eyes searching for the source. The muffled sound of a scuffle echoed danced across the gravel, bouncing off walls and making it hard to get a bead on its location.

"There!" Edward hissed, pointing towards a nearby structure, the post office. A glimmer of light was flickering from within the windows, showing that someone was around far later than they should be. The two siblings glanced at each other for only a moment before drawing their swords and running towards the front of the building, and the sounds of combat grew louder.

As they were passing in front of the building, however, one of the windows ahead of them erupted outwards as something was launched through the pane by a flare of dark energy. Edward grabbed Lydia's collar and pulled her back as a stream of black-and-red fire roared out from the inside of the building. Lydia gasped at the sight; she'd seen these flames sparsely during the course of her life, but it was easily recognizable: dragon element! But what had-

A crash off to their right drew their attention sideways for a moment, as whatever had been thrown through the window had hit the building on the far side of the street with a meaty crunch. It crumpled, falling to the ground, and Lydia realized that it was the seared and smoldering body of a Felyne - a Palico, judging by the armor. But the creature was unmoving at the moment… and there were sounds of fighting still echoing out from inside the building. Edward shook her shoulder, and the pair charged towards the front door. Her brother took the lead, raising a boot to kick the door, splintering the wood and throwing it open. Lydia followed him in, but froze in shock at the sight ahead of her.

The post office looked like a battlefield. Racks and stacks of post had been overturned or torn apart, dozens of boxes lay scattered across the floor, a long swath of wall and paper off to the side was burning, still sparking from the lingering vestiges of dragon element, and three mail-Felynes lay dead, sprawled across the room. One was smoking, burned by dragon element, another had been stabbed through the chest with a throwing knife, and the last… the last looked as though it had been cleaved in twain by a massive blade.

Lydia shook of her revulsion at the sound of fighting in the back, chasing after her brother as the pair of them burst into the storage room behind the counter. More destruction and bodies were scattered around the room, with one more mail-Felyne and three armed Palico laying in pools of their own blood, and the left wall of postage was aflame. And standing on the far side of the massacre, near the rear entrance to the building, was a hunter with one hand clutched around the neck of a final Felyne, raised into the air and held against the nearby brick wall.

He wore an odd set of mismatched armor. Most of the lower layers consisted of thick blue-dyed leather, topped with dirty grey greaves and gloves. The leather was covered in an oversized collection of chainmail over the arms and torso, his chest was covered with a dented metal chest piece, and two thick pauldrons were strapped to his shoulders. Several mismatched belts and bandoliers wrapped around his waist and arms, dangling over a dozen small daggers and blades from the man's body, as well as several pouches which sagged low, filled to the brim with who-knew-what. His head was covered in a steel helmet, missing the faceplate, but his features were obscured by a filthy sash which wrapped around his neck and shoulders, as well as a loose-hanging white cap and some sort of black cloth which hid his face further.

Finally, though he held the Felyne by the throat with his right hand, his left was wrapped tightly around the hilt of a great sword shaped into the form of an enormous axe, with its head wedged into the wooden floor. The hilt itself was more than five feet long by itself, and the curved axe head was a thick slab of sharpened metal which curved down towards the base of the weapon, providing a wicked four foot edge. A pale gold poll stuck out from the other side, gleaming with a contrasting glow compared to the black-tempered metal of the blade itself. In the flickering light of the flames, Lydia could see that the edge of the blade had a wet sheen to it, dripping with blood from one or more of the Felynes…

"Sweet mercy…" Lydia gasped, pointing her sword at the man. "Y-you, you there! Drop the Felyne and stay where you are!"

The man's head turned towards her slightly at the sound of her shout, and the Felyne in his grasp writhed around, crying out in pain and fear. "Help! Help me, please! He's gonna-" The creature's words cut off as man's fingers clenched tighter around its throat, squeezing his cries to a strangled gurgle.

"Hey! Drop the Felyne, you sick bastard!" Edward snapped, lunging forward.

With a growl of frustration, the man turned and hurled the Felyne through the air towards the two guards, forcing Edward to drop his sword and catch the creature before it could smash against the ground. Lydia cursed, trying to move around him, but the man was already swinging his weapon back into its sheath, smashing his way out the back door and bolting outside.

"Hold it!" Lydia snapped, chasing after him into the narrow back alley. "Get back here, or I-"

Ahead of her, the man was fumbling with one of the several pouches wrapped around his waist, and pulled something out from one of them, tossing it over his shoulder a moment later. Lydia slid to a stop, raising her sword defensively, but in the darkness she could only make out a small ball of some kind. Lydia frowned, looking back up towards the fleeing man, when the orb popped and light flared through the alleyway. Lydia shrieked in shock and pain as she found herself blinded, stumbling backwards, slamming her heel into a trash bin, and falling onto her back. She swung her sword in front of her, waving it in the direction that she thought the man had been in fear that he would attack her, but she could hear the man's footsteps fading into the distance.

"Damn it… damn it!" she cursed, fumbling with her uniform and finding a small chain necklace dangling down her shirt, feeling her way down the metal until she found the whistle at the end, and blowing into it to release a high-pitched trill into the night. She repeated the noise a few more times, and soon she could hear shouts coming from nearby streets as other guards responded. Behind her, she could hear the growing sound of flames as the fire spread to consume the post office. She pushed to her feet, careful to keep her balance as she tried to blink away the blindness. The sound of boots echoed through the alley as more guards arrived, and shouts went out to rally the fire brigade.

"Blood and thunder… Lydia!" The familiar voice of Captain Bain. "What happened here?! Where is- Are you alright? Why are you-"

"It was a hunter, I think," she said, waving her hand. "He was wearing some kind of blue and white armor with a steel chest plate. Was covering his face with a… black mask or something. He had a weapon that looked like a giant axe. Two or three full item pouches on his belt. I didn't… didn't see anything else besides that. He was headed southeast last time I saw him."

"Hmm, right, good," the captain muttered. "You hear that? Half of you, go! Find this hunter! Question anyone that looks suspicious! The rest of you, summon the fire brigade, then get to the wells and try and put out this fire! Now!" A chorus of affirmations followed, and a rumble of boots sounded as the others began their search. "You alright, Lydia? Your eyes, are you-"

"I'm fine, he just caught me with a flash bomb of some kind. Handmade, I think; it didn't look like the ones they sell in shops." She blinked a couple times, wondering if her vision was returning… it was nighttime, so who knew how long it would take… "Wait, Edward! Is he-"

"I'm fine," her brother called from somewhere to her left. "I got out of there not long after you did."

"Oh, thank goodness…" she sighed. "And the Felyne?"

"He's here too."

Lydia nodded, finally hearing the whimpering and coughing of the surviving Felyne. Stepping away, Bain shifted tone, becoming more soothing and friendly. "Don't worry, little buddy, you're safe now. But I need you to talk to me. How'd all this happen? Who was that guy? You know him?"

"I… I… No. I mean… I don't know. I ne-furr saw his face," the Felyne gasped fearfully. "I can't… I… Why would anyone do this? What did we do to deserve this? My furr-iends… He killed my furr-iends…"

"Yes, he did, and we'd like to try and bring him to justice. What did he do exactly? Did he say anything? Did he give you a reason for attacking him?"

"I don't… No, he didn't. Or… I can't remember. Said… I think he called us a few foul names, but his voice was so gravely I couldn't… couldn't understand him, nya. But he just… I was visiting my furr-iends as they were closing shop, and he busted through the back door and… and the next thing I know he's attacking us, and… just came up and started attacking us! Marron was cut… He used that sword and… We tried to fight back but he was, was too strong and…"

By this time, most of Lydia's vision had returned, and she watched the Felyne shiver, his eyes glazing over into a thousand-yard stare. Bain nodded, allowing the Felyne a moment of respite. Looking back towards the post office, the flames hadn't spread beyond the building, and judging from the confident shouts, the guards must've wrested control of the flames before they got out of hand. Lydia could hear shouts and whistles echoing out from farther away in the town, but they were distant… the hunter must've gotten pretty far by now, if he hadn't been caught.

"I've got a question," Edward spoke up. "Me and Lydia nearly got fried by a jet of fire when we were running up to help, but it wasn't normal fire. Looked like dragon element."

"Dragon element?" Bain muttered.

"Yeah, it's weird, I know. You know anything about that?"

The Felyne nodded slowly. "I remember… I remember that. I don't… know how he did that. Pepino was trying to get him from behind, but he just… just spun around and, and black lightning shot out of his hand, nya!"

"...Out of his hand."

"Yes! Like magic! It was terrible! He… It hit Pepino and… He couldn't… He was…"

"That's enough. You don't have to say any more," Bain said solemnly, turning his head to glance at the small burned body nearby, still crackling with dark energy.

"Sir, if I may?" a nearby guard spoke up. "There was a missive from up north couple days ago, several shops burgled in the night. No money stolen, but a lot of materials were taken, including armor and weapons."

"Think this guy was involved?"

"It's possible. I'll send a request for information in the morning. He had that handmade flash bomb too, and some hunters do that kind of stuff. Also… well, we got reports a few days ago about a few murders in the Everwood."

"What?! Why wasn't I told about this? Who was killed?"

"Well, they were Melynxes; no armor or weapons, just those bandanas they always wear. It's outside our jurisdiction. 'Sides, most of the bodies had already got eaten by a pack of Velociprey. One of the hunters in town reported it, said he figured they'd been killed less than a week ago. We told the Felynes in town, and they said they'd deal with it their own way… whatever way that is."

"So some thief is going 'round… what, killing Felynes?"

"Could be, sir…"

Bain frowned, realizing the Felyne nearby had a horrified expression on his face. "I think that's enough questions. Lydia, how're your eyes? Can you and your brother get him down to the station?"

"We… yessir, I'm fine," the woman nodded. Edward helped the Felyne stand, patting the creature's shoulder consolingly as they marched down the alley.

As they were walking towards the station, Edward took a step back to match stride with his sister. "I don't like this… Something about all this feels wrong."

"A bunch Felynes were butchered in the post office - civilians too, not just Palicos - plus a bunch of Melynx. It sure as hell isn't right, Edward."

"No, I mean… I don't know. My gut's telling me something bad's going on, or something bad's just getting started, but I can't figure at what."

A bell began ringing off in the distance, and the guards' heads turned. They could see the torches lighting the eastern gate, the passing glow showing that a procession was leaving town.

"Great," Lydia growled. "Guess that means the bastard managed to escape town. If he gets into the Everwood he's as good as gone…"

"Good riddance," Edward scoffed. "Let the monsters eat him."

"He's a hunter… I mean, probably. He's wearing the armor, and using a greatsword too, so the Everwood probably doesn't bother him. He's just getting away…" She looked down, realizing that the Felyne was staring off towards the distant gate as well, its eyes a mix of emotions. Reaching down, she patted his shoulder, making him jump in surprise. "Don't you worry too much. I'm sure they'll send out some hunters to catch him and bring him in. He won't escape."

"I… I hope so," the Felyne nodded, and for once the creature tensed with anger. "Damn him… Damn him…!"

Lydia nodded solemnly, letting the Felyne stew in his rage; she figured he deserved to vent after what he'd been through. The three of them continued their march, slowly making their way to the guard station, as distant torches gave chase through the trees to the east.

---

Author's Note: Please Review! Thanks for reading this chapter about other people aside from the main characters!

Been a while, hasn't it? This chapter's been done for a while, but real life got in the way during the final editing process, for both me and my editors.

Hopefully, everyone's enjoying World out there, or at least, those of you that have a PS4 or XBone. I've been thinking of putting together a squad or something for readers of this story that are on PS4. If anyone's interested in that, let me know and if enough people are interested, I might be able to do something.

I'm really enjoying the release of Deviljho now that he's showed up in the game, though I have to admit I find him to be a little weaker than I'd hoped he'd be. The tempered version of him makes up for it by being an utter wrecking ball, but relying on that to make him a fun challenge just seems a little cheap. Here's hoping the next monsters they release for the game have a little more punch to them. And hopefully they don't come too often... World's been delaying me from finishing off Odin Sphere, much to my dismay, and my copy of the HD release of Shadow of the Colossus is still in its case... Well, I'll probably back off once I collect all the Jho weapons I want to get.

Another collection of various scenes that are disconnected from the main cast. I realize that the last chapter like this was also called "Meanwhile", and I wondered at giving it a different name, but considering how many of these are likely to pop up during the story, I figure I might as well just keep a running naming scheme, rather than thinking up a encompassing name for everything when the contents of the chapter are so varied.

As for Kerry, it was specified back in the Experiment DLC, but Kerrigan's field of focus is geology, geography, and ecology. Her studies focus mostly on the world as a whole and how monsters fit within their ecological niches, though she does side work on tectonics and earthwork as well.

In case the killer's armor in the post office scene doesn't really make sense, it's not supposed to. Most of the armor he's wearing is stolen bits and pieces from different armor sets, specifically the Derring, Chainmail, and Bherna armors. Imagine the core of the Derring armor, with the chainmail chest plate and helmet, and a bunch of scraps from the Bherna armor like the sash and belts and head wrap.

And that's about it. Next chapter will be Kim and the others arriving in Cobi and getting started on their investigation.

Playing: Stardew Valley, MH: Stories, Odin Sphere: Leifthrasir, MH World
Reading: LV999 no Murabito by Hoshitsuki Koneko, The Wrong Way to Use Healing Magic by Kurokata
Watching: Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, Critical Role Season 2, Hakumei to Mikochi
Listening: Revolutions Podcast, The Divine Comedy, Modest Mouse, The Thermals, Colin Hay